Jordan Needs
by theotherjordan
Summary: An evening at home with a glass of wine in the hand and Stiles in the head. What more could a girl possibly want? Jordan's POV, just a little oneshot. Review, I beg of you!


**A/N: Most of us know the combination of a few glasses of wine and total exhaustion causes funky dreams, indigestion, and sometimes, clarity of thought. Please review; hit the button and tell me what you think, so the writing (and reading) will improve!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. She's not mine. Neither is Stiles, thank goodness. Nor any of the rest of 'em. They just show up and drink on my couch sometimes.**

(Jordan comes home, flings herself on the couch with a glass and a bottle of wine. Opens wine, pours glass, puts feet up, and proceeds to think.)

So, Stiles just had to ask another one of his stupid "shrink questions" today. Usually I blow him off, mumble some answer or another, and get out of there as fast as I can. Well, actually, I did that today, too, but I keep coming back to that question. "What do you need, Jordan, to make you happy?"

What _do_ I need? That's a very good question, Stiles. Certainly not the flip answer of "two bottles of Guinness and a pizza with everything" that I gave you earlier. Needs are different from wants, I know. I really do know the difference, honest, but what I used to think were needs have turned out to be merely wants in my life.

For instance; I would like an answer to the question of my mother's murder, of course. But do I _need _it? I used to believe I did, to feel my life could never be complete without knowing the truth, but lately something's changed. I don't _want_ it any less, but I'm beginning to think I don't actually _need_ it to get on with my life.

(Jordan pours a second glass of wine for herself.)

Same thing about the issues with my Dad. He lied to me about so many things, and that really, really hurts. I thought we were together through thick and thin; I trusted him to always tell me the truth, and I felt betrayed when I found out that he didn't. But I'm starting to realize now that he thought he was protecting me from harm. It never occurred to him that I'd find out, I suppose, and as long as his secrets were safe, so was I (in his mind). I can understand that. So it's really not the truth I _need_ there, either. I'm not even sure I _want_ the truth on that one.

Following this question is like poking my tongue at a cavity; it hurts to keep doing it, but I can't seem to stop myself. Thanks a lot, Stiles. Did you know I would keep repeating your question, over and over? What do I, Jordan Cavanaugh, need to make me happy?

I guess it comes down to the definitions of "need" and "happy". I'm not inclined to be a happy, upbeat, rah-rah type person by nature. To me, true happiness is a more of a state of deep contentment. And needs, as opposed to wants, are the things that are _required_, not merely desired. So what's required to put me in a state of deep contentment? Well, I think that I require a feeling of safety above all else. I mean, more so than other people. I'd consider that a flaw in myself, but I do know that's just the way I am. I need to feel safe to be happy.

(Having somehow finished the second glass, Jordan peers into the wine bottle before pouring a third glass.)

And I need to feel loved. All those times I ran? Those were all times when I felt totally, completely alone, when I didn't think anyone cared about me. I know who my friends are now; I know I can always rely on my morgue "family" when things look bleak. It took a long time to be able to trust them like I do now. They had to keep being my friends when I insisted I didn't need friends. They were actually more stubborn than I am, when I think about it! Garret especially; he's never, ever given up on me. That's love, when you want to strangle someone for being unbelievably stupid and hard-headed, but you don't give up on them.

I remember what that woman said to me in the park. "You know you are loved when you look into someone's eyes and see yourself reflected there." She was a little nuts, but man, was she right on that one. I see myself in Garret's eyes, and in Lily's too. And yes, if I'm being honest, I have to admit that I see myself in Woody's eyes, too. (Funny, how in JD's eyes I saw promises, fire, passion, and complexity, but never myself. Always him.) I feel safe with Woody as well. Those rare moments when I've let him wrap his arms around me, I've never felt safer or more cared for. I'm just scared to trust that, to trust him. I've been hurt so often that I'm just not sure I can take that risk one more time.

(There's only half a glass of wine left in the bottle. Jordan is feeling the effects of the first three glasses she's had, but pours it into her glass and starts sipping anyway.)

So, Stiles, did I come to the right conclusion? Everything Jordan needs to be happy, Jordan already has. All I have to do is reach out for it. Love and safety are staring me in the face, looking at me from the bluest eyes ever. I just have to believe that I can trust, and not get hurt. I just have to be brave enough to give it one more try.

_In vino, veritas._


End file.
